


I'm Rusty On The Edges

by ghettoassenglishman



Series: AU's FOR YOU [3]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Dogs, Drunk Ian, Drunkenness, Humor, Ian is literally adorable when drunk, M/M, Wizard of Oz References, adorable fucks, and Mickey hates drunk people, or so he thinks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-04
Updated: 2015-03-04
Packaged: 2018-03-16 08:29:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3481298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghettoassenglishman/pseuds/ghettoassenglishman
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“What the fuck?” Mickey called out as he pulled opened the patio doors. He stepped onto the cold ground, feet freezing over as they touched the concrete. The redhead hadn't heard him, he'd took it to his pleasure of singing louder. </p><p>'i met you last night when you were drunkenly patting my dog in my backyard at 3 in the morning  and then you threw up on my feet and then fifteen minutes later you were passed out on my couch so that's why you're here right now also what the fuck is your name and why were you patting a dog in a stranger's backyard in the middle of the night' AU</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'm Rusty On The Edges

**Author's Note:**

> So I saw this AU and I couldn't stop laughing and all I could picture of Drunk Ian singing about The Wizard of Oz

“Okay. Okay I'm fucking leaving, Jesus.” Mandy held her hands up in surrender as her brother pushed her towards the door of his house. “Don't jerk off to hard whilst I'm gone.” She snorted as he swung the door open and gestured for her to walk out.

 

“I hope your date goes shit.” Mickey called out as she ran down the steps of the house and over to the rather snazzy car parked up. As soon as he'd checked the fucker out, because he couldn't have his sister going out with serial killers, he closed the door and awaited a night of repeated Storage Hunters.

 

As the show started he felt his eyes droop, he'd been working all week and tomorrow was his day off. Fuck waking up early, he was having a lie in and that was that.

 

However, whoever was singing in his back yard, and woke him up, was going to get fucking shot. Mickey peeped one eye open, reaching over to his phone and checking the time. “You've got to be fucking kidding me.” _3am_ Who the fuck is shouting at this time? He only just remembered that Ace was out back, he'd chucked him out there whilst Mandy was doing her hair, he humped her too much for her liking apparently.

 

“Who the fuck-” The singing got louder, slurred more than anything, as he reached the patio doors. It was 3am and some fucker is singing in his yard, did they have a death wish? He pulled open the make-shift curtains and palmed his hand against the window as he tried to see through the pitch black. Ace was there, his collar reflecting off the lamp-post nearby, Mickey scanned further only to find a shirtless Redhead prancing around in the grass, patting his dog. What. The. Fuck.

 

“What the fuck?” Mickey called out as he pulled opened the patio doors. He stepped onto the cold ground, feet freezing over as they touched the concrete. The redhead hadn't heard him, he'd took it to his pleasure of singing louder.

 

The kid leaned down to the dog, unaware that Mickey was watching him, continuing to stroke its fur. “Are we going home to Kansas Toto?” Obviously the guy didn't know how loud he was saying things, it was as if he was trying to whisper, trying very hard and failing very hard. Mickey walked closer, folding his arms as he let the moment pass of the redhead swinging himself around the garden.

 

“WE'RE OFF TO SEE THE WIZARD THE WONDERFUL WIZARD OF OZ!” The redhead rolled around in the grass, patting the surface for Ace to follow. The dog licked all over his face, causing the guy to giggle _too_ fucking loud. "The wizard of Oz is (hiccup) _something_ BEECAAAAUSE..-

 

“What the fuck are you doing?” Mickey was standing above him now. Spoiling the moment. The redhead's eyes darted directly up to him, smile on his lips like he'd won the golden globe. Mickey huffed out in frustration and repeated himself. Which he didn't like doing. “Are you fucking listening to me, wise guy?”

 

“I'm going to Kansas.” The guy giggled, hand aimlessly stroking thin air, of which he thought was the dog. It was clear the guy was off his ass, his reeked of booze and had some sort of glow paint across his face. Mickey swore he had seen the guy before – maybe he lived around here, maybe he could just chuck him away and send him off home.

 

“Get the fuck up.” Mickey ordered, only receiving a shake of a head from the redhead. “Jesus, come the fuck on Dorothy. You ain't in fucking Kansas no more.” He pulled on the redhead's arm, whipping him up and nearly dropping him after the guy slumped on his feet.

 

The guy was chuckling to himself, swaying as Mickey tried to gather him up. “Who _are_ you? Are you Oz? Shit Toto, we found the fucking wizard!” He reached down to stroke Ace and Mickey gripped at his wrists.

 

“Ay, less of that, you creep.” Mickey started pushing him towards the side of his house, he had to get this guy away. He hated drunk people, especially when he'd nothing to drink. They were messy, they were annoying and most of all they always fucking _sang._ “You're going home.”

 

You had to give it to the guy, he was pretty hot for a drunken mess. Mickey had totally checked out his body while pulling him up, who could miss the bumps against his chest that built him up to be some fucking super-model. Nevermind his face, _jesus,_ that fucking face.

 

“What to Kansas?” The guy asked, eyes widening to pure joy.

 

Whatever the fuck was this kid on, it ain't fucking booze. “What is with you and the wizard of Oz, grow the hell up man.” Mickey snarled, trying to pull to the guy but he'd stopped in the middle of his step.

 

The redhead shushed Mickey with a finger to his lips. “Don't you say that about the Wizard, he can hear you.” God, this kid. Mickey wanted him out – so fucking badly – even though he acted cute and his eyes, maybe, held onto Mickey's and made him want to squirm, it didn't bypass the fact he really fucking hated drunk people.

 

“Shut the fuck up and move, Jesus.” Mickey groaned, keeping the guy at arms length.

 

It was stupid timing, and the kid had really good fucking aim. God, maybe shoes would have been an option he should of taken. The redhead was about to speak, his mouth wide open but it wasn't words that flew from his mouth; carrots, yellow shit, weird looking goo, even more carrots. There was even fucking sweetcorn in there. It wasn't in the guys stomach no more, it was all over Mickey's fucking feet and _that_ was it. The guy had to go.

 

It was merely impossible to move the guy without him puking everywhere, and for once in his sad stricken, stubborn life Mickey actually felt sorry for someone. Mandy wasn't home that night, Mickey already knew that even if she hadn't said anything, so he guessed the guy could stop on the couch for the night; aslong as he had a sick bucket and air freshener to clean the place up with.

 

Mickey had directed him to the toilet, let him spill his guts until all that came out was yellow, sicky acid from the lining of his stomach. Mickey laughed a little, already knowing the guy would wake up with the worst hangover ever. Ace had followed them everywhere, and annoyingly, he had become attached the redhead. “Fuck off Ace!” Mickey shouted while he cleaned his feet under the shower hose.

 

The redhead was asleep now, his tall frame taking over the whole of the sofa. Mickey had shoved a top on the guy, threw a couple of blankets over him and positioned him on the sofa so he didn't crack his neck. It was stupid. Why the fuck had he let in some stranger, who looked like he wanted to kidnap his dog, into his house and was now sleeping on his couch?

 

–

 

Mickey woke up to the sound of groaning, he thought it was Ace but apparently the dog didn't like him as much last night. He stepped up, pulling a pair of sweats on and heading towards the kitchen. The redhead was staring at the ceiling, making painful whines as the light shed through the thin curtains. Mickey sniggered, “Good morning sunshine.”

The redhead jolted against the chair, eyes little slits as they watched Mickey pull out cupboards and purposely slam glasses against the kitchen tops. “Where am I? Who are you?” The kid asked, groaning after each word. Looking like death waiting up from a twelve year coma.

 

“Apparently I'm the Wizard, but I see myself as the Tin man, really.” Mickey called back over his shoulder, popping two slices of bread into the toaster. He turned around and leaned against the counter, watching as the world finally sunk into the redhead.

 

“Why, because you don't have a heart?” The guy called back, tilting his head but wincing at the spinning sensation it gave off.

 

Mickey shook his head, walking over to the fridge and taking out the butter. “Nah, I'm just rusty on the edges.” He laughed to himself, hearing a silent giggling coming from the other man. God, this was so weird. How was they actually joking around right now, they didn't even know eachother?

 

“Why am I in your house?”

 

Mickey huffed out air from his cheeks. “Well, you came into my garden planning on taking my dog back to Kansas with you.” The explanation made the other man even more confused. “ _Then_ you were sick all over my feet and seriously man, whatever you've been taking is lethal, I literally had to carry your heavy ass in here.” He moved around the kitchen, plating up his toast and spreading the butter along it.

 

“Holy shit.” The redhead cried into his hands. “Fuck, I know I shouldn't have taken that last joint off Lip.” He shook his head, running his hands through the red strands that were sprawled against his scalp.

 

Mickey planted himself onto the couch, flicking the television on with his mouth full of food. “Hey man, It ain't all bad.” The guy perked his ears up. “You gave me some quality entertainment that's more than this piece of shit.” He nodded his head towards the tv, groaning when all he got was teleshopping.

 

“I'm so sorry, fucking hell.” The redhead laughed, pulling himself up into a sitting position. “You should of just left me out there, god I'm such a mess.” He glanced down at the shirt he was wearing, noting it wasn't his but he shrugged anyway.

 

Mickey nodded, agreeing because the guy sure couldn't hold his drink. “I was gonna do that, but my dog likes you too fucking much.” He directed his gaze to Ace who was currently curled up on the gingers lap, his tail wagging.

 

“He's so cute, what's his name?” He asked Mickey, his lean fingers rubbing behind the dogs ears.

 

“Ace.” Mickey answered, probably too quickly.

 

“Like the Ace of Spades?”

 

"No, I prefer the Ace of Diamonds." Mickey nodded, shoving more food into his mouth. The redhead nodded, mumbling a quick “cool” and then going back to stroke the dog. Mickey was getting a little jealous, why do dogs always get the fucking attention? “You got a name or should I just call you Dorothy?”

 

The redhead laughed, rubbing his chest. “Ian. You got a name or shall I just call you the Tin man?” His eyes watched Mickey carefully, like they were tracing over his skin, over and over.

“Mickey.” The older boy cut straight to it. Somewhere inside of himself he actually wanted to know more about this kid, one thing he did know – this guy sure liked to fucking talk.

 

“I have no idea how I ended up in your garden, but I'm glad its yours and not crazy Dave down the road. I'd probably be in a baked pie right now.” Ian laughed. So he was from around here, and for some reason the kid already fucking knew that. “Thanks, by the way. You didn't have to bring me into your house, clean your feet _and_ dress me.”

 

Mickey stepped up, biting his lip. “Been to Juvie, ain't going again because I let some drunk guy run infront of a car thinking he's going fucking home.” He raised his hands into speech marks, shaking his head at the laughing ginger and dumping his plate into the sink. “Anyway, Dave's pies are good so don't fucking put me off.”

 

“Please there's probably dog's eyeballs inside of them, you seriously eat them?” Ian held onto Aces ears, shielding him from the nightmare of being in one of Daves pies.

 

“I don't give a shit, that stuff tastes good.” Mickey snapped back, raising an eyebrow with a devious smirk. “You want a sandwich?”

 

Ian pressed his hand against his stomach. “If I eat anything I'm going to puke, so If you want my spew all over your carpet then go ahead.” He rested his head against the back of the couch, grabbed the cup Mickey had placed there in the night and sipping from it.

 

Before Mickey knew it he was staring at God's gift sat on his couch. The day light, and being sober, really did the guy justice. Smirking, he walked over to him. “How about...a nice greasy burger?”

 

“Stop.” Ian held a hand over his mouth.

 

“With extra cheese. Then some fat fried chips covered in gravy.” Mickey knew was he was doing, and it was official – he liked watching Ian squirm.

 

Ian pushed past Mickey reaching for the sick bucket. “I'm going to be sick, stop you fucking dick.”

 

Mickey dodged a slap and laughed, loudly. “Looks like you ain't going to Kansas soon.” God, he hopes he never clicks his fucking shoes. Some-how he was already attached to the fucker.


End file.
